On January 20, on his blog Ask the Atheist, CFI Los Angeles Executive Director Jim Underdown was asked the following question:

What did you think of the inauguration? Kind of godly, wasn’t it?

William G., Wheaton, Illinois

Here’s Underdown’s answer:

(sigh)

Look, overall, I thought it was great. The themes of unification, truth, resolve, equality—all were appropriate, healing (I hope), and inspiring. The last administration was an assault on honesty, an undermining of science, and a complete disregard of decency and compassion.

I am cautiously optimistic for the future.

And I absolutely realize that what I’m going to say is a bit of a luxury compared to many big issues—the pandemic, climate change, immigration, the economy, impeachments—we’ve faced for the past four years.

But the whole ceremony felt awfully God-filled to me. My wife noticed me pacing as we watched prayer after prayer, the singing of Amazing Grace, and multiple references to miracles, souls, and the Bible. I wondered if I was alone in this hyper-awareness. I wasn’t.

Even Sara Fagen, director of the White House Office of Political Affairs under George W. Bush and currently on the ABC News political team, noticed the unusually large amount of religious talk and described it as “an attempt to reach out to Trump’s America.”

OK, I get that. There are a lot of angry Trump supporters out there, and this effort to Jesus-up the proceedings was a move to include them and calm them down a bit. But I can still dream.

I dream of an America where national political ceremonies don’t actively exclude 30–50 million (maybe more) citizens who don’t believe in god, grace, souls, or miracles.

I dream of an America where we know that the only way to really get things done is not by prayer or hope or faith but through work, negotiation, reason, cooperation, and diligence.

I dream of an America where athletes who spend years of hard work learning how to swing a bat (shoot a basketball, score goals, etc.) stop pointing to the sky as if God and not their own efforts caused their success.

I dream of an America that no longer weaves God and country together as inseparable concepts. That marriage prevents us from acknowledging our mistakes—and correcting them. If God and country are one and God is perfect, how can the country possibly be doing something unjust?

I know, I know, the United States is three-quarters full of believers who expect God-talk at big events, but it sure would be nice to heed the clearly secular nature of the U. S. Constitution, leave the preaching to the pulpits, and treat all Americans as citizens instead of a congregation.